


Colors of Depression

by Haldane



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/pseuds/Haldane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson makes an effort to reach out for help.  Pity he's reaching out to the wrong person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors of Depression

**Author's Note:**

> Possible triggers for depression.

_Wilson: Does it occur to you that maybe there's some deeper guidance than 'keep your mouth shut'? That maybe a friend might value concern over glibness? That maybe... maybe I'm going through something that I need to have an actual conversation about?_  
  
 _House: Does it occur to you that if you need that kind of a friend, that you may have made some deeper errors?_

===========

You watch him walk away. Perhaps he's right, and everything is the result of some error or other. Perhaps everything bad that happens to you is your own fault. You're sick of trying, sick of trying and _failing_ , and the attempt to reach out just now is the last attempt you'll make. Whining is so pathetic.

Depression comes in colors. There's black and red and gray and blue. Which error resulted in you being sentenced to the worst of them?

Red depression looks like it could almost be fun. Lose your temper, scream out all your frustration, throw things and tear your hair out and make wild threats. Red depression gets you a _lot_ of attention, fast.

Black depression isn't so fun, but it doesn't drag on and on like the others. Black turns inwards; instead of broadcasting pain to others, you take it out on yourself. The best part of suicide is that you never have to answer for it or clean up any of the mess you leave behind. No counseling, no drug therapy, no sidelong looks. And you're a doctor, so you can get it right the first time. Tidy suicide's not as easy as it looks.

Blue; well, that's a women's depression. Girly. Tears and sobs, not as masculine-vigorous as the red kind but still attention-getting. If you had blue depression, you'd make suicide attempts designed to fail, which leave a certain impression of incompetence. Not really your style, even though, in your honest moments, you admit you'd like somebody to notice what you're going through.

Gray's the worst, since that's the one nobody ever notices. Fully functioning depression, you've wryly dubbed it. Every day you get up, present yourself neatly at work, act competently though the day and go home. You feel you're not entitled to help, since after all, you're a perfectly functional member of society. You don't cry or throw things, even though you want to. Surely it's not real depression, if you're the only one who can perceive it.

And nothing touches you. No pain, no joy. Just endless dragging days, with no prospect of change. You'd like help; you'd ask for help if it wasn't for the paralyzing combination of embarrassment and lassitude. What you really wish for is that somebody would make the effort for you, would reach in and see the truth.

As your last attempt to help yourself falls short - you can only reach halfway and your only friend wasn't interested in reaching across the gap - you wonder if it's possible to trade gray for another color. _Any_ other.


End file.
